The Only Way I Know

My head slipped off my hand as my music teacher's voice rang out across the classroom, suddenly awakening me from my peaceful dreaming. I hastily stifled a yawn as she threw me a dirty look.

"Jamie, should you kindly refrain from falling asleep during class then my instructions shall go uninterrupted," Mrs Cunningham called sternly.

"My falling asleep shouldn't really disrupt you unless I snore really loudly or something," I retorted before I could stop myself. Her face transformed into an ugly grimace, plainly suggesting she wished I suffered a slow and horrible death.

"Another remark like that and I will have no choice but to put you in detention," she replied calmly, turning back to the class, still adressing me nontheless. "Having a punk attitude may be standard outside of class among your friends, but it is not tolerated in this room.

I forced myself not to give a bitter laugh while she continued speaking to the class. Friends? Punk attitude? Yeah, right.

"As I was saying," she continued, walking in between the rows of deasks and handing out papers. "Your next assessment task will be to divide into pre-chosen pairs and research a certain genre of music, using this knowledge to write a song typical to this genre. I have paired the class up according to instruments playes, so as to not pair two drummers together, for instance."

She began to read out the names of the class accordingly. I doodled on the assignment sheet she had given me, until my name caught my full attention.

"Jamie Evans and Thomas Kelly."

I froze. She had to be joking. This was so typical, I thought angrily, forcing myself to stand up and walk over to where Tom sat.

I gave a very painful smile. There seemed to be a stony, bitter wall between us. Tom gave a sarcastic smile back, standing up as well. Without a word he led the way out to the Rock Room, opening the door and going straight to straight to the drum kit.

He kept his back to me, pretending to fuss over the precise height of the snare drum. I picked up the shiny Gibson guitar, only to slam it back down in frustration. I was not going to have to put up with this for the entire duration of the project.

"Tom, when the fuck is this going to end?" I cried angrily, kicking the chair away and balling my fists by my sides. He slowly turned around, his face a mixture of rage and arrogance.

"What needs to end?" he asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

"What needs to end?" I asked incredulously, pure rage flooding every inch of my body. "I'll tell you what needs to end." I stuck my leg out and kicked over the drum cymbals, sending them crashing down with a loud bang. "This needs to end."

"Oh, that. Hmm...let me think..."

"Why can't we sort this out?" I asked in desperation. "I can't stop thinking about you, and its - "

"Well, obviously I don't matter that much," he replied, looking directly into my eyes.

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Snogging people by the gates after school." He green eyes glinted in the light - and I saw something flash beneath them. Hurt. Hurt, anger and sadness.

I opened my mouth angrily to retort, not believing what he had just said. "Snogging people?"

"Wow, you must have kissed alot of people to not even remember their names..." he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You know the gorgeous blonde boy - "

"Don't you dare talk about Julian like that!" I yelled. "He even tried to befriend you, but you turned him down, and - "

"If you mean in the CD shop, then yes. I suppose I did. But all he wanted was to get to me after all the 'terrible things' I did to you."

"He was being polite!" I exclaimed. "And why are you bringing him into this?"

"Because you're not meaning what you're telling me," he said quietly. "You're obviously more than friends with him, and as if you're going to be thinking about me while you're making out with him."

"Hark who's fucking talking!" I shot back. "You and Jade. Mr and Mrs Perfect, do you even know what they said about you--"

"Don't bring her into this," he said, his voice quiet yet shaking with rage.

"I'll bring in anyone I consider appropriate," I replied stubbornly, crossing my arms.

"You've moved on. I've moved on!" He yelled back, clenching his jaw while he spoke.

"You told me you loved me! And still do!" I cried, recalling our last argument. Unless he didn't mean those words...

"I know. And I'm not going to take those words back."

There was a pause, we both stood there, faces red and fists angrily clenched, breathing heavily and straing forcefully at each other.

"Can we at least be civil with each other?" I pleaded, my anger slowly fading away. "Friends, even?"

His jaw clenched again as he paused momentarily, considering my suggestion. "Will you tell me what's going on, and not hide it from me?" he asked quietly, avoiding my gaze.

I sighed. "I'm never going to be able to tell you how much I regret doing what I did. And how foolish I was not to tell you. I'm sorry. Sorry for hurting you, sorry for expecting everything back, sorry for what I did to myself."

He sighed as well, unclenching his fists, relaxing his frame a little. "I missed hanging out with you, Jamie."

"I do, too," I replied, biting my lip.

"But you can't change things between me and Jade," he added, raising his head and looking at me sadly.

"I know. And - " I was about to add the same thing with Julian, but the words never came out.

"Let's just practice," he suggested, straightening the drum kit up.

"Oh yeah...sorry about that," I said shamefacedly, feeling my cheeks redden.

"No problem." He laughed. The first genuine laugh I had heard from him in what seemed like months. "Rage therapy, you know. Best not to ... erm... bottle it up."

I laughed as well, picking up the chair and guitar, glad it wasn't broken.

Just like I was glad our friendship wasn't broken anymore.